


Wet Dreams

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20032021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: This is about wet dreams. John has wet dreams and they are all about Sherlock.





	Wet Dreams

These days John Watson is rather sexually frustrated because he wasn't able to get laid. He had browsed the pubs but no woman was available, not for him they weren't. He had to return to Baker Street and hated it.

John sometimes was a very wicked man. So now he decided to have some fun with Sherlock. Sherlock, who loved to experiment. Perhaps now said one would find out how it felt to be experimented on. John smirked.

Upstairs he found him still awake. At once he walked into their kitchen and prepared tea. He put a mug beside his arm on the kitchen-table. No words were necessary and he wouldn't thank him anyway. He watched a film and placed two more mugs by his side. Sherlock drank them all and went to bed without saying a word. John noticed very well he didn't use the bathroom.

"Just perfect!" John whispered and locked the door to his bedroom from the inside. Then he went through his bathroom-routine and locked the second door, as well. He took the key and went upstairs into his room.

***

The next morning John got up rather early because he was excited. What would Sherlock do? He listened into the flat but there were no noises. 

John felt his morning-wood and gently rubbed over his groin closing his eyes.

"Oh yes, this is good. And very soon it will get better." Again, with the smirking. He walked downstairs and used the loo rather quickly. He also brushed his teeth and then waited for Sherlock to get up. It took him another half an hour until he heard him rattle the door.

"John? Open the door! I need the loo!" He called out and John cleared his throat.

"Sherlock? What is it? I am right here." Sherlock dashed into the living-room and stared down his nose.

"The door is locked." He said moving on his feet.

"Which door?" John asked sipping his coffee. Sherlock avoided his mug.

"The door to the bath! It is closed and I really need the loo! You have to break the door!"

"I am not going to break the door, Sherlock." He calmly replied. Now Sherlock almost glared.

"Why not? I need to get in there!"

"If am breaking through the door, Mrs Hudson will put it on the rent. I can't afford that. I am sorry, Sherlock, but no. You have to hold it until I find another solution."

"Then use my bloody lock-picks, John." Sherlock told him.

"Why don't you use them yourself?" John asked looking at his trembling hands. Sherlock just snorted and fell into his armchair. 

***

It only lasted for two minutes. Sherlock got up again muttering wildly. He leant with both hands on the kitchen-counter. His head was lowered and his eyes were closed.

"Transport. It's just transport. I am in full control of my body. Mainly of my bladder. It can't be. I have to hold it. HAVE TO HOLD IT!!!"

"What are you saying? Are you in pain, Sherlock?" John asked getting up.

"Yes, John, I am in pain! I need the fucking loo and you wouldn't help me!" His eyes were crunched close and he was panting. His long legs were crossed.

"Sherlock, if you are in pain, I have to tell you, that you need to let go. Here, use the sink." He opened the faucet in the kitchen and the sound of the gushing water made Sherlock groan and run back into his bedroom. John quietly laughed.

John took the bucket from under the sink and opened the door to Sherlock's bedroom.

"If you don't want to use the sink, then use the bucket." Sherlock wailed his denial.

"No, I am in charge here! I do control my transport! I won't piss into a bucket or even into the sink! I would only do it, if you'd make me!" John's head quickly turned and they locked eyes.

"What was that?" He quietly asked moving closer to Sherlock.

"I said you had to force me to piss anywhere else but my loo!" Sherlock hissed out the words.

"Your loo?" John asked laughing and shaking his head.

"This isn't funny, John." Sherlock said.

"I bet it isn't, Sherlock. I want to know if this just was a plea for help?" He asked looking at him and getting even closer.

"I already asked you to break into the bath. What else do you need? A written invitation?" There was sweat on his forehead now.

"No, I was talking about the part where I force you into pissing somewhere else but YOUR loo." John crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Sherlock who stood there like a child. Now he even pressed his cock.

"God, you are such a perv ..." Sherlock shook his head but also looked rather desperate.

"So? I bet you do know what us pervs want and need, don't you?" John asked settling on Sherlock's bed and looking up at him.

"No, I really don't, John. Please be so kind and let me know so I can finally PISS!" He yelled and by now John laughed out loud.

"Well, firstly stop yelling and be more polite. Ask me nicely and I may think of something. Go on!" He leant back into the chair and crossed his legs. Sherlock was panting and swallowed. Both hands were on his groin by now.

"Please, John, I am begging you. Please break into the bath and let me use the loo." His eyes were watering. John was hard by now.

"If you do it better, I make it worthwhile for you, I promise." John whispered the words staring at Sherlock who stared back.

"John, please, I don't know what else to do. I don't know what you want! Just please?" Now he sobbed and John felt pre-cum oozing out of his cock. So, he finally stood and sauntered over to Sherlock.

"Get down on your knees, Sherlock, and let go of your cock. NOW!" Sherlock was too shocked but to obey John. He dropped on his knees before him and held himself up by his palms. His head hung low and he panted. It took all his strength to not wet himself.

"I knew it. Just perfect." John whispered and stepped up behind him. He grabbed his arms and pulled them back.

"I know you are in control of your transport. I know you can do it, can hold out for a bit more, can't you?" John asked. Sherlock sobbed some more.

"No, no, no. It's too much ... Please, John, just please?" He didn't even fight in John's grip.

***

John had come prepared. He had taken the handcuffs the knew Sherlock had stolen from Lestrade several days earlier. Now he got them out and closed them around his thin wrists. Sherlock just wailed some more.

"Stay right here! And if you piss on the hardwood while I am upstairs you will regret it; do you hear me?" He had taken some strands of his hair and pulled locking eyes with his flatmate. Sherlock's eyes were blown wide and John let go. He dashed outside and got a plastic-bottle from his med-kit. He also got a ball-gag from his dusty toy-box that sat beneath his bed. He disinfected it and hurried back to Sherlock's side.

"So? How do you feel?" He asked and Sherlock just groaned and whimpered his pleas.

"I promised to make it good for you, if you control yourself. You did splendidly so and here I am. Open your mouth, Sherlock." Said one was so far gone he just did it. John was able to shove the rather big ball-gag behind his teeth and buckle it right. Sherlock groaned and soon started to drool.

He placed the bottle beside Sherlock's thighs and reached out for his belt. Sherlock's eyes were blown wide but he didn't move away. John pulled the zip down and freed Sherlock's cock.

"Oh, just perfect and so beautiful. Just look at this!" John hummed with pleasure and Sherlock beneath all his confusion wondered what was special about his cock. He only hoped he could piss soon. But instead of shoving his cock into the bottle and force him to piss, he started to open his shirt. Button by button he opened it and finally shoved it over his shoulders. His palm moved over his pale chest, moved south towards his belly-button, his pectorals, over to his hips until he only lightly brushed over his bladder.

Sherlock tensed and they locked eyes again. Sherlock groaned and tried to articulate his wants.

"Yes, I know. But not yet. I know you can hold it some more; I do." Sherlock sobbed and whimpered and tears spilled. His eyes shot wide open and his pupils dilated when John grabbed his cock and rubbed over his nipple. He hunched his shoulder and shook his head.

"Does it feel good? Hm?" John asked and Sherlock groaned. John knew he had reached the part when it almost hurt. So, by now he started to pull his cock very slowly. Just so Sherlock spread his knees a bit wider and threw his head back.

"You like this, don't you?" John asked and Sherlock nodded. He pressed his finger into the slit and Sherlock yelled. Nothing much was heard though. Snot and drool had found their way over his chin and John was aroused like fuck. He was wanking Sherlock's cock who was hard as a rock by now. He held up the bottle.

"Go!" He yelled at him and for just a few seconds Sherlock stopped breathing and stared at the plastic around his precious cock. And then he came and shot his cum into the bottle. He sobbed desperately and tried to piss, too, but couldn't until John pressed hard on his bladder. Only then he whimpered and it took him another second to start the pissing.

He pissed quite a lot and ended up with his head on John's shoulder. Said one didn't mind and only took the bottle away when there was nothing more. He placed it in a safe distance and lifted him up. Sherlock was a dead weight.

"So, wasn't that so bad?" He asked trying to catch his eyes. And Sherlock looked up smiling a tired but also smug smile. His voice was exhausted when he said:

"I knew where you hid the keys, John ..."


End file.
